Dawn, The Omen Of Day

Dawn, the omen of day, with shroud discarded
Pierced with stars retreating
Wields sharpened rays to chase shade
Deep beneath the overhangs
And with it sleep, defeated


A Conversation

I look into your eyes–you stare
I find an irony somehow
In everything about your face
But I push that aside for now
I ask you of the life you chose
And is it working out so far
Behind the tired rings you wear
All the bitter nights have carved
Colors tell the story well
Though you simply shrug and laugh
But we both know you’re not yourself
And maybe he will not come back
I look into your eyes–so deep
I ask you if you have regrets
You slowly turn your head and speak
Whispering replies in breath
“I wouldn’t want to say it’s good
Or claim that I am glad at all
For how it all turned out–or could”
But then you lift your head up tall
“I know that this has cost so much
I know I may appear unwell
But heaven here is hard to touch
I guess I had to go through hell
It doesn’t mean I’m scared to burn
It doesn’t mean I don’t look back
I could have walked the easy way
But I choose not to think of that”
If all the sleepless nights were stars
The galaxy is in your look
If all the tears you cried were words
The lines across your cheek are books
I look into your eyes–you stare
I find an irony somehow
I see you every day right here
But cannot seem to search you out
And when I think I know you well
Or when I think you’re feeling fine
My mirror finds the truth to tell
Your tired face is just like mine

Dreams Of A Flightless Bird

A wisp of scented breeze
Over gently stirring fields
If time is here at all
Then it must be standing still
My heart escapes my chest
A balloon without a string
The body that it left
All the evidence it came

I want to drift away
Where the mountains meet the sky
Ascending on the storm
Like a bird

I want to disappear
Without waving a goodbye
The sun to keep me warm
On my way

A wisp of scented breeze
Is my harbinger of grace
If pain was ever real
Then it must have been erased
My dreams escape my head
Like a flock of winter geese
These endless numbered days
Are the path to my release

I want to drift away
Where the ocean hugs the shore
The tide beneath my wings
Like a bird

I want to disappear
Like the early morning dew
Alive again and new
On my way

Stealing The Moon

Stealing the moon
Gathering fragments to sweep into piles
Tidied and hiding in unpolished eyes
Weary diversions for subtle conditions
Cradled in visions she cannot describe

Stealing the moon
Kleptomaniacal just for tonight
Grasping at beams–she is holding so tight
Keeping reflections in tattered arrays
Tugging at sparkles that once were so bright

Stealing the moon
Storing the pieces in some other room
Wrapped away snugly in linens, but soon
Dark will be on her and she will return
Burning with passion but never consumed

No Reply

I found the tears
They were waiting for me
In the driver’s seat
On an empty street
Parked over the line
Where no one cared
Jill Phillips told me
“If we danced like this everyday”
But I cannot breathe
And just barely move
Enough to push it out
All of it out
This God-awful pain
But I don’t complain
I can be civil and sweet
Faceless and obsolete
I just wish that life
Could go away
Stop nursing me back to health
Just leave me here
To slip into the dark
In the car
With a guitar and a bleeding heart
Beneath blinking red lights
Can I come home tonight?
“I want to go home tonight”
I. Want. To. Go. Home.
But there is no reply


The sun–so bright
The air–so cold
The world–so wide
I feel so old

I want to close
I want to close
I want to close
My eyes for now

The time–so strong
The dreams–so real
The day–so long
I start to feel

I want to close
I want to close
I want to close
My eyes a while

The weight–so much
The pain–so deep
I miss your touch
I need to sleep

I want to close
I want to close
I want to close
My eyes today

My heart–so weak
My head–so lost
My mind conceives
The simple thought:

I want to close
I want to close
I want to close
My eyes today

Dead, Rising

The dirt is fresh beneath the fingernails
And I cannot deny
I tried to bury them in shallow graves
But they refuse to die
I must have crafted some immortal strains
And grafted in the cells
Of something stronger than the common things
We hold within ourselves

Now it appears my current company
Is not about to leave
And all the feelings that are haunting me
Will not be put to sleep
So, in the doorway of my heart, I halt
Unmoving where I stand
I hear them clawing out to find me
With the shovel in my hand

And maybe I should be ashamed to think
I tried to put them down
But I am fighting for my life tonight
Against the hollow sound
Of all the beauty I believed in once
Before I found it dead
I hear the memories of lovely things
Like zombies in my head

The empty graveyard of my passion aches
With graves I cannot fill
They rise and follow me to bed at night
Despite my pleading will
So I suppose I will not bury them
At least, no more today
For I am far too tired-handed now
To lift this weighted spade